


All Of You

by JustJasper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJasper/pseuds/JustJasper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lazy day in the Villa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Of You

**"Home is not where you were born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease.” - Naguib Mahfouz**

The first few times they manage to keep to the 'no work talk' rule. After all, their time together at the villa on the Nevarran side of the Tevinter border is short, only days at a time, sometimes only a few hours. The Bull gets why its like that, why Dorian can't always make the journey during Magisterium recesses; he's busy actually doing shit that matters. Doesn't stop him wishing they had more time.

But now they have a week and a handful more days to slept and fuck, cook and eat, sleep and fuck even more, and the urgency has slowly melted away.

Now, with the heat of midday passed, naked on opposite sides of the plush settee, they're doing paperwork. The Bull has the Chargers' books lined up on a low table, one of his budgets in hand as he lounges with one leg stretching out along the settee, against Dorian's. He scribbles in the margins as he checks over his numbers, nudges his leg into Dorian's occasionally. Dorian has rolls of parchment spread out over the floor, correspondence and reference texts as he scratches away with a quill, a reference book open in his lap.

One of Dorian's bare feet rubs absently at the inside of the Bull's thigh as he re-dips his quill, humming thoughtfully as he puts it back to paper. His hair is at awkward length, not quite long enough for it all to go in the tie at the back of his head, strands falling down around his face. The Bull could lean across and tuck one of the strands behind his ear—that's how they ended up fucking on the kitchen table that morning—but he doesn't want to disrupt the way Dorian's peering at his papers and worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

"How's it coming, amatus?" Dorian asks without looking up, but there's a little smile at his lips; he knows the Bull was watching him before he turned back to his work.

"Just got to watch the budget. We've got to get some new gear soon, might have to take a hit somewhere."

"Maybe Krem could settle for a smaller maul this time around."

The Bull laughs, and Dorian slides his foot up his thigh, nudges it against the Bull's soft cock where it rests. The Bull looks up, but Dorian is still studying his papers, and the Bull goes back to his books again. Tries, at least, but it becomes clear that the touch is deliberate, Dorian's toes running along his cock until his body begins to react.

"You want me to pretend not to notice, keep on working?"

"When I’m touching your cock, I usually want you to notice."

The Bull sets his accounts down on the table, his pencil rolling carelessly close to the edge. Dorian has already capped his ink and set his book aside.

"Then you want me to come over there, let you get a good hold on me?"

"Just relax, I’ve got you."

"You sure do, kadan."

Dorian's feet are large and strong looking, perfectly tamed and painted nails and soft brown skin, but the Bull can feel the callouses on his heel as he slides his foot along the hardening length of the Bull's cock. They're cared for feet, but show they work too; hours trekking, training, one part of a body Dorian has mastered just like his magic.

"Hmm, yeah," the Bull murmurs. Dorian is smiling at him, watching him as he rubs his foot slowly, ball and arch and heel all pressing along the Bull's cock. The slightly paler skin along the top of his foot that's been hidden under sandals has almost evened out, the last traces of a summer fashion trend apparently Dorian started quite accidentally. Lines from toe rings too; gold probably, but Dorian hasn't worn jewellery, hasn't worn make up since they got here. It doesn't surprise the Bull that much, not when he knows it's had to become armour again, and they've done nothing but be in each other's company since they came to the villa.

The Bull skims his hand along Dorian's ankle, worries the bone gently with his thumb, and Dorian sinks further into the settee, gives himself a little more leverage and a little more control to use his foot to stroke Bull's cock, which is fully hard and leaking precome onto his belly.

"Shit, Dorian, your feet are sexy."

"Into that, are you?" Dorian's smiling though, flushed along his neck and chest, his own cock hard where it rests at the crease of his thigh.

"I'm into all of you," the Bull says, because he's never had a thing especially for feet, but Dorian is really doing his best to give him a thing for them.

He presses his heel down against the Bull's heavy balls, and that has him groaning and pushing into the pressure. Dorian laughs, tries to roll the Bull's balls with his foot; it's clumsy, a little awkward, and still hot as shit. But then again, Dorian laughing and having fun when they fuck is the hottest thing to the Bull anyway.

Dorian shifts his grip on the settee and brings his other foot into the mix too, frames the Bull's cock and uses the slick of his precome to ease the way.

"I didn't know your feet were this nimble," the Bull teases.

"I've been practising," Dorian says. "I can turn the bath taps on with them."

"Good to hear you're keeping on your toes, kadan."

"Ugh," Dorian groans, and presses one of his heels hard into the Bull's balls. It only has him moaning, pushing into the pressure of it, the rough slide of the calloused skin against his most sensitive parts.

Maybe the scale of his cock makes it easier, but Dorian has a good rhythm going, and it feels odd but good to get rubbed off with two sexy feet. The muscles of Dorian's legs flex, and his hips roll and twitch, his own hard cock shifting with the motion.

"Shit, kadan, I’m close."

Dorian slides the arch of one foot up over the crown of the Bull's cock, rolls his foot against the sensitive head while the other foot slides along his length, pressing him against his belly, and the Bull knows he's done for. It only takes a few more strokes and he yells, the first spurt of his come making a mess between Dorian's toes, the rest falling onto his feet as Dorian continues to stroke him.

He groans, throws his head back, and is only just aware of the sound of Dorian's panting breath, his own groan as he strokes himself off, feet twitching against the Bull's cock as he comes on his own chest. _Shit_ , he thinks, as his chest swells with joy, pride, love; something that covers how amazing it feels to be together, lazy and easy and a little silly, without a care beyond the walls of their villa, for now.

With some effort Dorian lifts his feet away, holding them aloft as they both study the mess of come covering them.

"Disgusting," Dorian says mildly, giving himself a few lazy strokes as his body shudders in the wave of his orgasm.

"You want me to lick them clean?"

Dorian smirks at him. "You absolutely are into this, aren't you?"

"Told you," the Bull says, as he takes one of Dorian's offered feet and brings it to his mouth, "I'm into all of you."

“ **Peace is the only battle worth waging.” - Albert Camus**


End file.
